


Justice In All Its Forms

by DigiriblePlum



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, F/F, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6047758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigiriblePlum/pseuds/DigiriblePlum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>War is brewing, Justice is falling, and Truth is losing sight of right and wrong.</p>
<p>In a universe where six Sentinels - Mercy, Wisdom, Truth, Justice, Wrath, and Vengeance - have the power to save or destroy everything, control matters.<br/>Myka is Truth and Helena is Justice; they are dark and light, but neither can figure out which is which.<br/>The distinction might just be the difference between life and death, with the whole Universe on the line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Justice In All Its Forms

**Author's Note:**

> I am continuing with my (up to now mostly unpublished) tradition of throwing my favourite characters into space and putting the weight of the universe on their shoulders.  
> This is a slow-burn 'we have to save the universe but could also end up accidentally destroying it' romance with added aliens and science that is probably more fiction than fact.

“Myka! Myka, it’s over.” The voice was a tiny thing at the edge of her hearing, easily dismissed. Familiar but inconsequential, for there was no room in Myka’s mind for anything but the power that thrummed through every atom of her, lightening in her veins. Her body felt too small, as if her skin could no longer contain what lay inside, as if she were spreading past the limits of the possible. The Universe expanded in her mind, an explosion of knowledge arriving suddenly but feeling like she’d always had it, and Myka could see _everything_ , everything there was or had ever been and she _knew_.

“Myka, we won, you can-” Myka laughed, and the ground trembled, and the tiny familiar voice cut itself off. She saw him stumble, fall to his knees among the rubble that had once been a city, and felt … felt nothing, and everything all at once. Pete Lattimer is a friend. Pete Lattimer is _nothing_.

“I am Truth,” her voice was not her own, yet nothing had ever felt so natural as this. She was all things: she was both the unstoppable force and the immovable object. Who had she been before this? “None can escape.”

People scurried around her, backing away now as the relief of a few moments ago gave way to renewed fear, and Myka thought _Yes. Yes, you little creatures, fragile and fleeting in the face of it all. You do not know the storm you stand in._

Myka knew. She was Truth, and Truth did not falter.

This was a corrupt and broken world. Its leaders had led it glibly into war, driven by greed and cruelty, and even now sat sharing out the spoils while others suffered. The people of this planet had followed blindly, never asking why they must wage war on a world that had done them no harm, nor had any means to defend itself. They killed with impunity, slaughtering soldier and civilian, adult and child alike. When the dust had settled, when the Unified Interstellar Peace Force took its armies and left, these people would remain unrepentant and unpunished. They would not learn.

Myka would teach them.

Myka was Truth, and Truth was inescapable.

Myka would crush them all. And if the Unified Interstellar Peace Force tried to stop her, she would crush them too.

The sword in her hand crackled with energy, red, gold, and silver streaks stark against the black blade. She hefted it above her head, the solid weight of it grounding her, pulling her from the infinity teeming through her mind. The power running rampant in her veins focused, channelling down into the weapon and Myka felt vast in her strength, a vengeful god come to deliver their final verdict. None could stand before her now.

The people were running now; all except the tiny, familiar man who had fallen to his knees when Myka’s laughter shook the ground beneath him. He was afraid, she could see, but still he would not leave her.

Pete Lattimer is a friend.

_Pete Lattimer is nothing. I am all things. I am Truth._

_Pete Lattimer is a friend._

“Truth, lay down your burden.” This voice was not tiny. It was massive, bigger even than Myka, encompassing all she knew and echoing further into places Myka could not yet see - and it, too, was familiar. As familiar as the power igniting her body, as the knowledge straining the limits of her mind, as the beat of her own heart. This time, Myka listened. “Your battle is won. You need do no more.”

The voice was gentle, infinitely so, filled with understanding and patience so strong Myka felt tears welling up in her eyes. She was tired, suddenly so _tired_ , and her body ached beyond words. She wanted to stop. But who had she been before this?

“Come back, Myka Bering. There is no danger here now.”

Coming back to herself was sudden, jarring, and the pain she had just begun to feel was magnified tenfold. She grabbed at the heavy chain around her neck, her hands burning at the touch though the skin of her neck remained cool, and tore it off; she sorely wanted to hurl the thing away from her, but could not bring herself to do it. It was a part of her now, for good or ill, and she could no more get rid of it than she could her heart.

“I don’t-” her throat felt raw, as if she had been screaming. Perhaps she had. Already the memories of what she had done - of what Truth had done - were fading, though her body still hummed with remembered potential. “Helena, I don’t know what-”

“Hush, now. It’s all right.” Helena’s voice was back to normal, no longer ringing with infinity or shaking her with its strength, but it was no less reassuring. “You did good.”

Myka coughed out a laugh but stopped the sound abruptly, half choking herself. She glanced over to where Pete was hauling himself up from the dirt, his skin just as filthy and blood-spattered as his uniform. She couldn’t remember exactly what had happened, but guilt welled up in her chest as she looked at him. Though he smiled at her, his face free of any trace of recrimination, the feeling wouldn't go away.

“You've got to be kidding me,” she spat, ire directed firmly toward herself. She could remember the power that had overwhelmed her rational mind, more potent than any alcohol; could remember the firm weight of the sword in her hand and, with a horrible twisting in her gut, what she intended to do with it. “I’m pretty sure I would’ve … If you hadn’t been here, I would have-”

“But I _was_ here.” Helena’s smile slipped away and she braced a hand against Myka’s shoulder, preventing her from getting to her feet. “You should have seen me the first time Justice manifested. It took Zabar _and_ Ilec to bring me back; Ilec had to literally hold me down. We knew this was going to happen, Myka. It happens to all of us the first time we manifest. But you fought it. You looked at Pete, you remembered, and you fought it. I’d say that’s a good sign.”

“Plus, y’know, the whole ‘saved a planet’ thing,” Pete wore his usual, slightly dopey, grin as he limped over to the two women, clapping Helena on the shoulder. “Not bad for a rookie. You mucked up the ending a little but I’d give you an eight of ten, would follow again.”

Helena rolled her eyes and Myka couldn’t help but smile a little, feeling the knot in her stomach loosen slightly. People were starting to return to the area, cautiously picking their way through the rubble toward the medical ships. They eyed her warily, but Myka wasn’t so consumed by guilt that she couldn’t see the respect and admiration in their faces as they passed her by.

“Can you stand?” Helena asked, offering a hand. Myka nodded, pulling herself upright with a pained grunt. “You’re going to be aching for quite a while, I’m afraid, and exhausted. I recommend a good few days’ bed rest.”

Myka laughed again, though the sound still stirred something unpleasant in her gut. “Somehow I don’t think I’ll get permission to take time out.”

“You’re a Sentinel now, darling,” Helena definitely sounded amused, knocking Myka’s shoulder with her own as they started the trek back to the drop ships. It was a short walk, but it felt like miles to Myka. “You really don’t need permission any more. It’s one of my favourite perks.”

“I’d go crazy after a day,” Myka admitted. “I don’t do well with nothing to do.”

“Ah, but I’m sure I’m owed a day or so myself. I did just fight a war, after all.” Helena’s smile caused an entirely new twist in Myka’s stomach, though this one was rather pleasant. “I’m sure we could find ways to entertain each other.”

Myka blushed furiously, hoping that the dirt smeared across her face disguised the worst of it. No such luck, if the glint in Helena’s eye and Pete’s widening grin were anything to go by.

“Careful, Wells,” Pete said. “You’ll have her swooning before we make it to the ship, then one of us is gonna have to lug her inside.”

“I’m sure I’m up to the challenge,” Helena smirked.

“Doctor!” The sight of a white-hatted medic standing at the bottom of the medical ship’s loading ramp came as a great relief to Myka in that moment, and she flagged him down before Pete could speak again. “I’m really not feeling so great, Doctor, and these two are not helping. They may, in fact, be purposely trying to kill me.”

The medic rushed forward and took her weight from Helena, who laughed in response as Myka was ushered to an exam bed. He wasn’t human. Myka was fairly certain she’d never seen his race before, but instantly she knew; Imbrecan, from the planet Imbec in the Fibbi binary system, fairly young by the length of the crests on his head. The knowledge felt strange in her head, new and old at the same time, like remembering something from earliest childhood. With the Chain still clutched tightly in her hand, Myka was just Myka and couldn’t see the everything the way Truth had, but Truth knew who the Imbrecans were and now so did Myka.

So, then, without the chain Myka was _mostly_ just Myka. It was more than a little disconcerting to realise she would never again be entirely alone in her own mind.

The medical staff quickly shooed Helena and Pete away to be checked out themselves, but Helena lingered a little by her bedside.

“It was your first manifest, Bering,” she said quietly, resting a hand gently on Myka’s arm. “Trust me, it gets easier.”

“Until it gets harder.”

“You've got years ‘til you have to worry about that,” Helena looked away momentarily, her smile becoming forced. “Rest. Recover. Then I’ll show you exactly how much fun _not asking permission_ can be.”

Myka groaned loudly as Helena walked away, earning a laugh in return - but damn it all if part of her wasn't really, _really_ looking forward to that.


End file.
